Discovering Jayme
by heavymetal1984
Summary: Matt Morgan finds an unexpected love interest in Glenn Jacobs baby sister, who believes she's too tall to be loved. He wants to show her that tall is beautiful, but can he get close enough with Undertaker, Big Show, and Bradshaw as her personal keepers?
1. Ch 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Jayme. The rest are the respective properties of the WWE and themselves._

There she sat. Lord, she made him breathless.

Long, dark, curly auburn hair fell over her face as she pored over the book in front of her. Her long legs were stretched out in front of her, her posture relaxed, and he had never seen a more beautiful sight.

Vaguely, he noted someone calling her name. Jayme.

Her head snapped up and she quickly closed her book, stuffing it into her bag and standing.

He was taken aback. She was tall, the tallest female he'd ever seen, taller than Shaniqua's six-foot frame. Her body was slightly built, he could tell, and he'd almost bet money that, with training, she could take the tall black diva.

Suddenly her head turned in his direction and she offered up a shy smile, before heading toward the back of the empty arena.

He stood near the ring watching her go, unable to remove his eyes from the gentle sway of her backside. He sighed.

"You okay man?"

Matt spun, coming face to face with Sean O'Haire. He shook his head to clear out the cobwebs. "Uhh, yeah, I'm fine."

He grinned. "Well, if your done… perusing, we're all going out. You comin'?"

He nodded.

"We'll be in the lobby of the hotel in an hour."

Matt nodded again. "Yeah, I'll see you then." He headed to the locker room, grabbing his bag, then left the arena, speeding off in his rental.

He couldn't get her out of his head. That was day three he'd found her sitting in the just emptied arena, reading. She was completely oblivious to him, and that chafed a little. He'd never had a problem getting girls to notice him before.

He let out a heavy breath. Maybe he was losing his touch.

Once at the hotel, he went up and changed, meeting the guys in the lobby. Half an hour later, he found himself at a club, sipping a beer with Sean, Brock Lesnar, whom he found to be a little too cocky for his own good, and the Bashams. The conversation was buzzing around him, but he didn't hear it as a pair of long, long legs and a mop of silky auburn curls found their way into his line of sight.

"…do you say, Matt?"

He snapped himself out of his musings, blinking. "Sorry, man. What was the question?"

Doug Basham leaned in closer. "You've been spaced out all night, man."

Refusing to take the bait, Matt just sipped his beer letting his gaze linger across the crowded room.

Sean's eyes followed his. "Ah, I see."

The other three at the table looked.

Lesnar was the first to respond. "Fine piece of ass."

Matt let out a silent snarl that the rest of the group didn't see. She was beautiful, refined, not 'a piece of ass.'

Sean hissed through his teeth. "That one is outta your league, rookie."

That comment piqued at his competitive side. "Really?" he replied with a slight smirk.

Danny Basham nodded in agreement. "She runs with Taker."

Matt's eyebrows shot up. "His daughter?"

The group shook their heads collectively.

"Sister?"

Sean glanced over at the table where she was sitting. "All I know is she calls him Uncle Mark, and he won't let anyone near her."

Taking another sip, Matt muttered, "His niece."

"That's the thing," Doug said. "Her last name is Jacobs."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Jayme was stuck drinking soda, while the rest of the table sipped their liquor. It sucked being twenty.

At least she'd gotten away from her brother. Glenn was sweet but he was like a lioness protecting its cubs, and there was no way to convince him that she wasn't a kitten.

Someone nudged her. "Earth to Jay."

She looked over at Mark. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

She sighed. And then there was her surrogate brother whom she'd dubbed, Uncle Mark. In some ways, he was worse than Glenn.

She'd been stuck with the _RAW_ crew until Mark went back on the road to train for his match against Glenn at Wrestlemania XX. She'd hoped it would lessen the eyes on her, but she soon realized her error. Everywhere she went, she was watched over by the Big Show-Paul Wight, Mark, or the overly serious John Bradshaw.

Her first day with the _SmackDown_ crew, she'd tried to strike up a conversation with Edge, and Mark had nearly threatened his life for daring to speak to her.

She stood.

As expected, Mark grabbed her wrist. "Where are you going?"

She tried to choke down her irritation. "To the ladies room," she replied testily, in a tone that dared someone to argue.

He released her and she went to the restroom, fixing her hair and lightly dabbing some cool water on her face. Before returning to the table she made a detour to the bar, getting another soda.

She glanced over in the opposite direction of the table she'd left and saw him. He was watching her again. She smiled to herself, but the grin disappeared from her lips when she remembered why she was being watched.

Her height. She was bigger than half of the men in the WWE. She got stares everywhere she went, but not the kind she wanted.

She dared a glance over her shoulder at the gorgeous man watching her.

_Yeah,_ she told herself, _guys like that want someone small and dainty._ She took a sip of her soda and leaned against the bar. _Why couldn't she be blonde, about five-foot-six, and have a double-d chest?_

She was about to sulk back to her table when a large hand touched her shoulder.

She looked up and found herself staring into the most amazing pair of eyes.


	2. Ch 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Jayme. The rest are the respective properties of the WWE and themselves._

He offered up a warm smile, drawing her eyes to that sensuous mouth. "Hey," he held out his hand. "I'm Matt."

She shook it, quickly forgetting her tongue. Surely he wasn't genuinely interested. Why wasn't he intimidated by her? "I'm Jayme."

He looked into her eyes, still holding onto her hand. "That's a pretty name." He seemed to remember where he was, and he dropped her hand. "Sorry," he said with a sheepish grin. "That sounded like a line."

She chuckled. "Not at all. I just don't know how to take a compliment."

He glanced down at the drink in her hand. "Let me buy you another of whatever you're drinking."

Smiling, she nodded. "Club soda."

He didn't make it over to the bartender before someone grabbed her arm. "Time to go, Jayme."

_Bradshaw._ "I'm trying to hold a conversation here."

He started nudging her toward the door. "I've got my orders."

Matt was watching the scene with a look of defeat. She sent him a helpless look and a little smile, hoping he would understand.

Once she was outside, she spun on him. "I'm not ready to leave."

He walked in the direction of the car. "It's past your bedtime."

She seethed. Crossing her arms, she followed him mutely, contemplating the many ways to torture one human being before they ultimately expired from blood loss.

She let him drive her to the hotel, where she tried sleeping, but was too angry to do so. One glance at the clock told her it was one o'clock. She slipped on a pair of jeans and her boots, and headed down to the lobby, hoping the restaurant was still open.

She was in luck, and sat at a table in the back, ordering a salad and a water. A long shadow fell over the table and she looked up. "Matt," she said, thoroughly surprised.

"Can I join you?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier."

He brushed his fingers over the hair on his chin, and with amusement shining in his eyes, he replied, "I'll admit I was a little confused."

She smiled. "Yeah, my brother's guard dogs wont let me have any fun."

He folded his hands in front of him on the table. "Unfortunately, I have to go. Mornings come way too soon."

"Oh, okay," she muttered, trying to hide her disappointment. She would thank Mark later for scaring off any guy that looked her way, like she had an abundance of them.

"Would you have breakfast here with me?"

Her head shot up. "Yeah."

He gave a nod and a smile. "About ten o'clock, then?"

"See you then."

He turned and left, tossing, "'Night, Jayme," over his shoulder.

She grinned at the sound of her name on his lips and watched his long strides until he was out of sight.

She finished her salad and was on her way up to her room, when someone closed a hand over the back of her neck. She froze, then smiled.

"I've only been gone three days."

"I missed you," he said quietly.

She sighed. Sometimes he could be very sensitive. "If I turn around, please tell me you're not going to choke slam me," she said, trying to sound disdainful.

He scoffed. "Why would I choke slam my favorite baby sister?"

She shook her head in mock exasperation. "Glenn, I'm your only baby sister."

He spun her and she was engulfed by two massive arms in a hug that nearly knocked the wind out of her.

She poked him in the chest. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

"I was waiting to switch planes, so I thought I'd drop in. I'm headed right back out the door, though, in about twenty minutes."

"You should be resting at this hour." She poked him again, near the ribs, and he flinched. Jayme had to bite back a grin. Heaven forbid people should discover that the formidable Kane was as ticklish as a school girl.

She led him in the direction of the elevators.

They stood in silence for a moment as it went up until he inquired, "Is Mark taking care of you?"

_'Care'_ wasn't a strong enough word. "Yes, Glenn, but you know I'll be twenty-one in two months. I can take care of myself."

He shook his head. "Jay, you know there are people out there who can hurt you, especially because you're my sister."

She rubbed her temples for a moment, feeling a headache coming on. She couldn't count the times she'd heard the same thing over and over and over. "Fine, you win."

He offered up a winning smile. "Good."

She pursed her lips. There were times when she'd like to draw back her fist and punch him right in that stubborn chin of his. What was worse is she knew she couldn't knock him down and he would just laugh at her.

Trying to lighten the mood, she turned to him and said something she knew would set him off. "I wonder if I could kill you," she poked him in the end of his nose for effect, "and just be an only child."

The elevator doors opened and he gave her an 'I dare you' look and lifted her over his shoulder.

Used to, she would shriek and beat on him, demanding she be let loose, but now she just propped herself up on her elbows against his back, resting her chin in her hands, sighing.

She couldn't imagine the sight they made to any passerby as they walked along the corridor.

"What room you in?"

"1268." She reached behind her and pulled the keycard out of her back pocket and handed it to him.

He unlocked the door, and the next thing she knew, she was sailing through the air, landing with an, "_Oof!_" on the bed on her back as he flopped her there like a sack of grain.

He was sitting in a chair when she finally looked up, flipping channels on the TV. "Do you need anything while I'm here?"

_Besides and AK-47 to shoot John Bradshaw in the face with?_ "Nah, I'm okay," she replied, hoping Glenn couldn't sense her anger. He would just go through this little spiel about it being for her own good.

Since it was her body, her mind, and her life, wouldn't she know what was her own good without the help of outside sources?


	3. Ch 3

_Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except Jayme, and if I did, I wouldn't share. They are the respective properties of the WWE and themselves._

Matt was seated by himself, sipping a drink when Jayme approached him. She smiled down at his upturned face. "Ten o'clock, right?"

He nodded, motioning over the waiter.

They placed their orders and sat for a moment in an awkward silence.

She heard him take a deep breath before he asked, "So, what brings you to _SmackDown_?"

She laid her hands primly in her lap. "I was with my brother and the rest of the _RAW_ crew, but Glenn can be kinda… smothering." She glanced up to find him watching her with apparent interest shining in his chocolate eyes. "Mark let me stay with him while he's on the road, so here I am."

His eyes were sparkling. "So do you feel less smothered?"

She laughed. "Uh, no." She was beginning to relax and it felt good to just talk to the opposite sex and not worry about whether one of Glenn's pit-bulls was going to come running. "Mark is worse than Glenn."

His lips curled up in a little smile. "What do you do while we're all at the arena? You must get bored."

Their food arrived before she could answer and she dug into her steak and eggs. "Whenever Mark is at the arena, so am I, and if he can't be there, then John Bradshaw or Paul Wight are no more than two steps behind me," she said after swallowing a bite of food. It wasn't that she didn't love Mark to pieces, but at least Glenn let her go shopping by herself.

"Jayme!" someone bellowed from across the room.

She hung her head, muttering, "Here we go again." She set her fork down. "I've gotta go."

She stood and he grabbed her wrist before she could get away. "Can I see you again?"

She looked into his eyes, not reading any hidden agendas or animosity there. Quickly she scratched her cell number on piece of paper and handed it to him. "Bye," she said quickly and dashed across the room and into the hotel lobby.

She met up with Mark.

He was standing with his massive arms crossed and his lips pursed, looking stern. "Who was that?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know who it was, Mark. You work with him all the time." She crossed her arms, unconsciously imitating his stance.

He frowned. "Go get your stuff. I'm headed to the gym."

She didn't want to make Mark mad at her, so she just did as she was told, anger burning in her belly the whole way to her room. She grabbed her bag, hoping a run on the treadmill would cool her down.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Matt grabbed a barbell, laden with seventy-five pounds, hoping to clear his thoughts of a certain tall, auburn haired beauty. After about thirty reps, he realized it wasn't working, and decided that maybe the treadmill would be better.

The hotel's gym was nearly empty, so he had no trouble finding an empty machine. He was about to start the thing up, when something caught his eye

She was doing stretches, dressed in a black tank top and cotton short-shorts.

He just stood on the belt of the treadmill, letting his eyes roam over her physique.

Her nearly waist-length hair was pulled high atop her head and folded under in a ponytail, with a few wayward curls hanging down around her face. Her long graceful neck led down to high, firm breasts, that were not small, but definitely not silicon. Her flat belly was bared beneath the hem of her top and he could see the muscles flexing under her skin as she moved.

She was stretching her hamstrings, her legs laid out before her. And, Lord, what long legs they were, at least four foot long, smooth and just slightly muscular.

She had no idea the effect she had on people.

He pulled his brain back to reality, muttering, "Eat your heart out, Stacy Kiebler," with a small grin.

"You plan on using that machine, Morgan?"

He snapped his head around, finding Mark Callaway standing there with his arms crossed and a brow lifted.

Matt actually blushed, something he hadn't done since junior high. "Uh, yeah," he replied quietly. He was quick on the road to getting himself killed.

He rubbed a hand over his face and started the machine.

A hot shower was a welcome distraction after his grueling workout. He spent a while there, letting the steam and hot water ease the tension in his body.

That evening, he found himself staring absently out the window of his hotel room, holding the number she'd given him tightly in his fingers.

With a sigh, he let his head fall against the back of the chair. _Should he call her?_

The door burst open before he could make up his mind. "Hey, roomy!" Sean said with a cheerfulness that Matt envied.

Matt frowned. "You swallow a happy bug, O'Haire?"

Sean did a little jig. "It's good to be alive." He waved a keycard under Matt's nose. "I have a date with the sexiest woman on the roster."

"How nice," Matt replied sarcastically. He glanced down at the number in his hand.

Sean's eyes followed. "What's this?" He snatched the paper from Matt. He grinned. "I see. I've got some information for you, buddy."

Matt took the number from him. "Now what?"

"I just came from a club on the other side of town and Callaway was there."

Matt rolled his eyes. "So?"

"Without Jayme."

Matt sat forward in the chair, his attention focused on this new piece of information. "Are you sure?"

"Yep. I just saw her in the hall on my way here."

That did it. "Thanks, man." Matt grabbed the phone, dialing her number.


	4. Ch 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except Jayme, and if I did, I wouldn't share. They are the respective properties of the WWE and themselves.

-

Jayme wrapped the towel around her dripping form and went into the bedroom. She sat in a chair and took another towel to her long curls.

The bright red curls were a Jacobs curse.

She combed out her hair, muttering an obscenity when her cell phone rang. It was probably Mark.

"Hello?"

"Jayme? It's Matt."

She smiled to herself. "Oh, hi," she said, surprise evident in her voice.

"Hey. I was wondering if I could take you to dinner."

The towel slid from her fingers to land in a heap on the floor. "Uh, yeah, sure."

She heard a relieved sigh come from his end. "Great! Cool. Is seven okay?"

She checked the clock. That gave her an hour to get ready. "Perfect." She gave him her room number. "See you then."

"Okay, 'Bye."

She pressed the power on her cell and tossed it onto the bed, flopping down beside it. She laid there for a moment, then jumped up and dashed to her bag. She pulled out a long black skirt and an off-the-shoulder black top. She topped it off with black high-heeled boots and left her hair down to drape to her waist.

She had just put some powder on her face when he knocked. She checked her appearance in the mirror and went to the door. He was dressed in a white shirt and dark jeans. He looked completely sexy from the top of his head to the tips of his black boots.

He held out his elbow. "Shall we?"

She smiled and laid her hand on his arm.

He escorted her to the front of the hotel where he had a car waiting.

They were seated inside and driving through town before he spoke. "So tell me about you."

She turned her gaze from the window. "There's not much to tell."

"What do you like to do?"

She blushed, forcing herself to relax. "I love to read. I read everything." She lowered her eyes to her lap. "I want to be a writer."

"What do you write?"

She grinned sheepishly. "Romance." She covered her eyes with a hand, trying to hide her embarrassment. "That sounded so girly."

He chuckled. "It fits you." He glanced over as he drove. "So you're hiding a big imagination in that pretty head, huh?"

The crimson stain on her cheeks deepened. "Yeah. Glenn calls me a dreamer."

They pulled up in front of the restaurant. Her tension eased a little. She was afraid he'd take her to some place fancy, but the diner was perfect.

They found a table and ordered their food.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's up with Callaway?"

"Glenn commissioned him to be the defender of my honor," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Ah," he said, nodding. "I usually see you by yourself. Why don't you mix it up with the rest of the roster."

She shrugged. "Besides the obvious reasons, most people are usually intimidated by me."

"Why?"

Color suffused her cheeks again. "Because I'm so big."

He looked taken aback. "People are afraid of you because you're tall?!"

She nodded. She tried to pretend like it didn't bother her when people whispered about her, but in the lonely hours of the night, it came back on her.

He took her hand from across the table. "Well, they don't know a damn thing." He looked into her eyes. "I think you're beautiful."

She averted her eyes. "Nah."

Smiling warmly, he caught her gaze. "I think you're questioning my honesty."

She bit her lip, looking up at him. "I wasn't-"

"Okay, then. No more denied compliments." He grinned at her, making her tummy flip.

She smiled back. "Alright. I won't deny them. But just so you know, I won't believe them, either."

Their food arrived and they spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other. Afterwards, he escorted her to her hotel room.

She pulled out her key card and stood with her back to the door. "I had fun. Thank you."

He took her smaller hand in his. "You're welcome. Will you be at the arena tomorrow?"

She smiled. "Of course. Mark will make sure." Jayme let out a sigh. "Well, goodnight."

He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers in the sweetest kiss she'd ever experienced.

His big hand cupped her cheek, stroking her jaw with his thumb. "'Night, Jayme," he said, walking away, leaving her standing in a shell-shocked silence.

After the shock wore off, she managed to get inside and dressed for bed, unable to fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning.

She awoke abruptly to someone pounding her door down. "Jay, get your ass outta bed. We gotta go."

She got out of bed, padding to the door in her pajamas. "What the hell time is it, Mark?"

He had a bandana wrapped around his head and shades over his eyes. "It's bright and early. The crack of noon." Setting his gym bag down, he turned her toward the bathroom and gave her a nudge. "Hurry up."

She went into the bathroom, taking her clothes with her. She showered quickly, pulling her still damp hair up in a band.

"Since when do you sleep so late?" Mark said from the other side of the door.

She took a moment to panic, then relaxed. "I was working late." It was only a little white lie.

"Are you ready yet?"

She slipped her feet in her shoes and left the bathroom. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have no patience?"

He lifted a brow. "Only you, about twelve hundred times. Let's go already."

She sighed, grabbing her bag and following him out the door.

The arena was quiet so early in the week. Mark went off to practice in the ring with some of the guys and Jayme took a seat in a balcony.

She took out a novel, forgetting everything around her.

She was jerked out of her reverie by Mark.

"Come on, the guys ordered pizza."

She tucked her book in her bag and followed Mark to one of the locker rooms. After making sure everyone was descent, he opened the door and she went in. SmackDown wrestlers in various stages of dress were huddled around an inordinately large stack of pizza boxes.

Mark elbowed his way through, and Jayme followed close behind to keep from being trampled. She grabbed a slice and went to a corner.

She nibbled the greasy confection as Matt came through the door. He hadn't seen her yet, and she took the time to study him, the grace of his movements. He was incredibly sexy.

She wondered what he saw in her.

He looked up and caught her watching him. Grinning, he made his way to her side. "Hey, Jayme."

Lord in heaven, why did she have to be so damned shy? "Hi." Her eyes sought out Mark. He was chatting with the other wrestlers and was apparently paying her no mind. She let herself relax a little.

"A bunch of us are getting together in Nidia's room, and I was wondering if you'd like to join me."

"I'd love to." She looked up, straight into Mark's green gaze.

He strode over, grabbing her arm. "Working late, huh?"


	5. Ch 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except Jayme, and if I did, I wouldn't share. They are the respective properties of the WWE and themselves.

-

"You did what?!"

"Morgan and I had a little chat."

Jayme glared daggers at Mark.

"Look, kid. Your brother told me to keep an eye on you, especially around the guys on the roster." He slung his bag over his shoulder. "I've got a meeting with Vince. I'll be back at around eight. Don't leave the room."

Jayme dug her laptop out of her bag and turned it on, ignoring the big man in the room with her.

He watched her for a minute, then gave a loud sigh. "Fine, don't talk to me. It's for your own good, Jay. You don't know these guys like I do."

She lifted her chin and turned her back to him, her lips pursed and her arms crossed. It just wasn't right. Mark and Glen treated her like a toddler.

She heard the door shut and she slammed the monitor down on her laptop in anger. "Damn it!" She fell back on the bed, suddenly tired, and let herself fall asleep.

A shrill ringing woke her and she sat up with a gasp, her eyes searching the room for the source. Her cell phone was the cause of the racket. She snatched it up, turning it on and murmuring a groggy, "Hello?" into it.

"Hey, beautiful, are you busy?"

She frowned, trying to escape her sleepy daze. "Matt?"

She heard a deep chuckle come from the man on the other end. "Surprised?"

Jayme rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Yeah. Mark told me he talked to you."

"Yeah. So, are you busy?"

She glanced at the clock by the bed, noting it was only five-thirty. She smiled. "Not until eight o'clock." Twenty minutes later, she found herself at a movie theatre downtown, surrounded by half of _SmackDown!_ along with various members of the crew and security.

Matt sat to her right, Sean O'Haire to her left and Nidia to his left. The two of them seemed to be enjoying each other's company immensely and, eventually, they got up and headed to the back of the theatre for some privacy.

Matt leaned closer. "I thought they'd never leave," he murmured.

Jayme giggled. "Yeah, me too."

He laid his arm over her shoulders and drew her closer. Her head went to his shoulder without protest and she relaxed against him until her cell phone began to vibrate. She looked at it with growing panic. "Matt, I gotta answer my phone. I'll be right back."

He nodded letting her go.

She dashed to the door of the theatre and stepped into the light of the front of the building. "Hello?"

"What the hell took you so long?"

"Mark." She glanced around, searching for an explanation. "Uh… I was… in the shower."

"Oh, well, I just called to make sure you didn't need anything. I'll be home early."

Shit! "Uh, no, I'm fine." She prayed her voice didn't sound as frantic to him as it did to her own ears.

There was a lengthy silence. "Jay, I hear people talking. Who's there?"

She gave a shaky laugh. "Oh, I left the TV on."

"Okay, 'bye."

She pressed the power on her phone and went back into the theatre. She sat beside Matt. "I have to go."

He turned his attention to her. "What's wrong?"

She sighed, wringing her hands. "Mark decided to come home half-an-hour early."

Matt took her hands. "Easy, there." He lifted one to his lips and kissed the top. "Come on."

Jayme grinned to herself as Matt led her up the center aisle. He stopped at the last row, tapping on Sean's shoulder.

Sean looked up from kissing Nidia.

Matt nodded toward the door. "Come on."

Sean stuffed his hand into his left pocket and pulled out his keys. "Here, we'll take a cab."

Matt took the key and they went out to Sean's rental, driving the Chevy back to the hotel. They hurried through the lobby and took the elevator up to her room.

She unlocked the door and they stepped in, Jayme sighing in relief. She turned to Matt. "You probably better go before Mark shows up."

He nodded reluctantly. "Yeah." He took her hand and pulled her toward him, slanting his mouth over hers.

There was no hesitance in his kiss, but a sweet questing as she opened her mouth to him and he swept in. After a moment, he pulled away, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth. "See you tomorrow?"

She nodded. "If I can get away from Mark and his goons. Speaking of which… He didn't put you off at all?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm bigger than he is," he replied with a grin.

Jayme giggled. "I see."

Matt lifted his hand to her cheek, stroking her still moist bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes going to her mouth. "Besides, I think you're worth the trouble."

She blushed despite herself.

Going to the door, he turned. "I'll call you in the morning."

She nodded and bid him good night. When she was alone, she changed into a pair of pajama pants and had just pulled her laptop out to do some reading when there was a knock at her door.

Mark stepped through the door she held open. He held up a bag. "I thought you might be hungry."

She made an attempt at a smile, but wasn't sure she was ready to forgive him.

He set the bag on her bedside table. "It's Chinese."

She put her hands on her hips and looked at him expectantly.

He crossed his big arms. "You drive a hard bargain, kid."

She mimicked his stance. "I'm not a kid anymore, Mark. I'll be twenty-one in a month."

"I know," he said with a sigh. "Am I forgiven?"

Her lips pursed and she shook her head. "Not yet, but you're getting warmer."

Mark sat in a chair and propped his elbows on his spread knees, his hands clasped together. "I've known Glen a long time. He'd kill me if I let you run wild."

"I don't plan on running wild, Mark. I just want to live my own life."

He seemed to be thinking on that, then he looked down at the floor. "I hope I don't regret this."

She gave him a squeeze and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Uncle Mark," she said sweetly.

He blushed. The near-seven-foot-tall Lord of Darkness actually blushed. "Cut it out, kid. Your brother will kill me."


	6. Ch 6

Jayme stepped into the hotel's restaurant the next morning with Mark following close behind.

Matt was seated at a table, waiting for her and she walked up. "Mornin'"

He gave her a smile then shot a questioning look to Mark.

Mark stood stiffly for a minute, then leaned his arms on the table, leaning over Matt. "Remember this, boy. If you make her cry, I'll make you cry." His voice was a deadly growl and his grassy-green eyes were narrowed. "If you hurt her, _I'll_ hurt _you_." With that, he backed away and walked off, leaving Matt sitting with his eyebrows up and a look of astonishment on his face.

"What the hell just happened?"

She gave a sheepish smile. "He's just being Mark."

"Ah."

They ate breakfast together and he invited her to watch him practice at the arena.

She sat in a folding chair outside the ring as he sparred with a very intimidating Brock Lesnar. She just couldn't get used to the guy and winced every time he slammed Matt or one of his hits landed true.

After a while in the ring, Matt climbed out, Jayme handing him a towel.

She gave him a smile as the rest of the guys left to go to the locker room. "That looks fun."

He nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "It is. Wanna try it?"

Jayme bit her lip, looking wide eyed at the big wrestling ring. "I don't know, it's kinda scary looking. Glen always tries to get me in."

Matt took her hand. "I'll protect you. Come on." He nodded toward the ring and she followed, taken aback by his comment. She wondered if that only applied when she was in the ring with him.

He held the ropes apart for her and she stepped in, exhilarated from being in the center of what made the business tick. Grinning, she looked around at the empty seats in the arena.

When she turned, Matt was watching her.

He motioned her toward the center of the ring, teaching her some basic joint locks and reversals. They grappled for a while, Matt murmuring encouragement when she pulled something off successfully, and eventually, she surprised him with an arm drag.

He fell back on the mat and grinned up at her. "Where'd that come from?"

She smiled shyly. "Rey Mysterio?"

"You like the high-flyers?" he asked, sitting up.

She nodded. "I could never do what they do, though. I'm too big."

Matt shook his head in exasperation as he stood. "Who told you you're too big?"

"No one had to. I mean, look at me." She bit her lip and turned away from him.

Silently, quickly, he moved up behind her. He had her pinned against the ropes before she could blink, his hands clutching the ropes on either side and trapping her. "I'll prove you wrong."

Her eyes averted to his chest and she shook her head negatively.

He lowered his face towards hers, catching her eyes with his. "You think you're too big for me, little girl?" he rumbled huskily, sounding slightly challenging?

Her eyes dropped to his mouth and her own lips parted longingly. She had to swallow the whimper that came to her throat. "Maybe," she whispered. Her lips tingled with need. She wanted his mouth on hers.

His mouth moved a little closer. "I can't help myself," he murmured, as much to himself as to her. His head moved those scant inches and he was devouring her mouth.

Her lips parted all on their own and he took advantage, slipping in to taste her. With a groan, he pulled her to him and she slipped her arms around his neck, sighing. One of his big hands clutched the fabric of her shirt and the other tangled in the hair at her nape, tilting her head to the right angle for him to suck her tongue into his mouth.

He leaned away and Jayme's eyes opened to look into his. They were the color of the earth and the flecks of copper around the centers mesmerized her. It wasn't until someone cleared their throat that she thought to blink out of his spell.

Matt looked over her shoulder, then stepped back.

She turned. "Oh, hey, John."

He crossed his arms. "What's goin' on, Jay?"

Matt took her hand and squeezed it.

"Nothing," she replied, tongue-in-cheek. "We were just headed to the locker rooms."

She and Matt slipped out of the ring and walked up the aisle and through the curtain to the back. He led her to the locker room he shared with the other guys.

"Everyone's probably cleared out by now," he muttered, sticking his head through the door. "Empty." He held the door open for her and went to a locker, digging through his things. "Let me grab a shower," he said.

She sat down on the bench beside his locker and studied him while he wasn't looking.

He had on ring shorts and wrestling boots and the wide expanse of his chest was bare and gleaming with sweat. The defined muscles of his hips and belly shifted as he straightened, drawing her eyes there. She couldn't help herself from letting them drift lower.

She blushed and let out a little gasp when he chuckled and his body responded to her gaze.

He leaned over her, laying a slow kiss on her cheek. "I'm flattered, beautiful," he whispered in her ear and, grinning, turned toward the shower.

Jayme sat blushing the whole time, embarrassment eating at her.

Matt finished after a few minutes and came back wearing only a pair of jeans. He sat beside her. "You're still blushing."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't believe I did that."

He laughed and wrapped his arm around her.

She leaned against his still moist chest. "I'm sorry."

He stroked her back. "Don't apologize. It wasn't a bad thing."

She sighed, blushing even more from talking about it. "That's not something I would normally do."

He kissed her forehead. "I know. But I like you to look."

Her eyes shot to his and he grinned.


End file.
